


The F Word

by Accidentallytechohazardous



Category: Bleach
Genre: Adoption, M/M, Parenthood, Polyamory, and needs EVERYONE TO KNOW, everyone is gay except the characters i dont like, more pairings and tags to be added lATER ???? QUESTION MARK, renji has SO MUCH LOVE in his GODDAMN HEART
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-05-30 06:29:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15091010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accidentallytechohazardous/pseuds/Accidentallytechohazardous
Summary: He opened his mouth to reassure Izuru that no, he wasn’t offended by any snide comments at this time. But, of course, Shuuhei decided now was the perfect time to finally throw his two cents in. “Renji thinks we should have babies.”Renji pointed a dripping glare over his shoulder at Shuuhei, who pretended to be very interested in the book’s table of contents. The shape of Izuru pressing against Renji’s side stiffened immediately, probably having some kind of out-of-body experience before clearing his throat. “Excuse I?”





	1. Chapter 1

Renji did consider himself to be someone with a lot of self-discipline. Listen-- he wouldn’t have a reputation for being so passionate and impulsive if once in a while someone else got off their butt and did the passionate, impulsive things that needed to be done around here! Someone else has gotta carry the torch. Renji was just a responsible civil servant.

Like, that’s basically what he was here for, right? Renji had always been a ‘wild thing’, according to certain circles. But the politics and the rules and the plain old exhaustion threatened to wear him down. It took guts and resilience to be as dedicated as Renji was to being a Problem Child. 

After all that, there’s still some part of Renji that was irked by how much he’d been reduced to posturing and pencil-pushing as a lieutenant of the Sixth. He doesn’t regret it, he just thinks about it. A stack of paperwork filled out here, a stuffy meeting in a hot room there. People just weren't meant to sit in offices and argue all day. It was unnatural!

However, there are some upsides to trading in the large arenas of the Eleventh’s training halls to the ancient archives of the Sixth.  

 

“What you got there, Lieutenant? Do you need a hand?” A voice rang out behind Renji’s back at the same time he reached upwards to gently, tediously tease a large tome off of the shelf above his head. 

A comical sequence of slapstick events was narrowly avoided, in which Renji dropped the book on top of himself and it cracked open his own skull with its impressive girth. The body of the Late Lieutenant Abarai is preserved in the Sixth Division archives for posterity, eventually disintegrating into the very dust and musty air that perforate the entire block of offices. The circle of stupidity is complete. 

But that doesn’t happen, and instead Renji fumbled with the enormous book before catching it and holding it protectively to his chest so that it didn’t fall to the floor and explode into loose pages. He angled one narrow eye over his shoulder to find Rikichi, armed with a feather duster and looking sheepish. As if anyone else would be under Renji's feet around here.

The dark-haired officer wrung the duster handler in his fists, smiling with embarrassment. “S-sorry, Renji! I’m supposed to be helping people find the stuff they need and making sure nobody ruins the relics, I was gonna get the long grabby thing for you. You know? The long stick with the book-grabby claw on the end-”

“Rikichi.” Renji interrupted him, using his best _‘Despite everything, I’m somehow an authority figure’_ voice. He resisted the urge to ask who the hell put this kid on clerical duty. “Thought you were still wrangling the Jigokuchō in the mail room.”

Rikichi’s expression transformed into one of pride. The younger man puffed his chest out and puts his fists on his hips. “Already done! I caught every last butterfly, so Ninth Seat Shirogane told me to come here and guard the archives.”

Renji smartly resisted the urge to look from one side of the room to the other, at the shelves absolutely devoid of life except for himself and the subordinate standing before him. It was true that among these documents were countless priceless artifacts, ones with important significance to Soul Society, but Renji couldn’t imagine a place less likely to be robbed. Gotta watch out for those bands of Thieving Librarians, he supposed. That's how they got ya'. “Keep up the good work.” 

If any sarcasm had accidentally wormed its way into Renji’s voice, Rikichi didn’t register it. Bless his sweet little heart. Instead his eyebrows rose (One tattooed in an eerily similar pattern.) at the large book bundled in Renji’s arms. “Doing some reading heavy reading? You’re so serious, Renji! Or is it for Captain Kuchiki…”

Renji loosened his grip on the large book, reminded himself not to be so harsh on Rikichi just because the kid was an airhead (and was constantly making messes for Renji to clean up, but who wasn’t?). “It’s on ancient history of the Gotei. Hisagi asked me t’ run it for him.”

“You mean Lieutenant Hisagi in the Ninth?” Rikichi asked, as if they had any other Hisagis lying around. He cocked his head to the side like a curious puppy. “What’s he want with it?”

The part of Renji that still had his self-preservation instinct from back in the day flared up, feeling hot and spiky in his chest. Protective. Defensive. Unnecessary. Renji reminded himself he didn’t need an ulterior motive to do a favor for a coworker.

“Research.” Renji answered honestly. Shuuhei had gotten infamously nosy in the past few years, it didn’t hurt anyone to know what he was scrounging up this time. He probably loved the free publicity. “He’s doing some history thing he wants to get published. The archives here and the Shin’o Academy library are just about the only places t’ get primary resources on everything in Soul Society.” 

From the continual vacant expression in Rikichi’s eyes, Renji assumed that he wasn’t reading between the lines. No knowledge of Renji’s ‘personal life’. Or he didn’t care. Renji wasn’t sure which one he really preferred. “Hmm, Shirogane said I’m not supposed to let people take materials outside the room without a good reason. Buuut since you’re you, I think she’d be fine with it.” 

Who said power hierarchies were always evil? Renji knew Mihane quite well. He appreciated her leniency with his shenanigans.

“If she asks, tell her I’ll make sure Hisagi brings it back by the end of the week.” Renji offered, adjusting the large book on his hip. God, this thing really was unreasonably massive. Stupid historians, writing their nerdy history for geeks. 

He hoped the finality in his voice would do the trick and end this interaction, and was relieved to see it worked. Renji let Rikichi give him a rather goofy bow, and set the kid off with a pat on the shoulder and a grunt, “Thanks for your hard work.” And with that he was off. 

Renji was never a social butterfly by nature. Amazing, how many introverts the Gotei absorbed into its upper echelons. 

  
  


In the recent years, worrying about Shuuhei and Izuru had become part of Renji’s daily routine. Having just one historically unstable boyfriend was already kind of a handful, but Renji was an ambitious motherfucker so got the two-for-one deal. But they are his handfuls. Two handfuls. One for each hand. 

So, at any given time, if it’s not one thing then it is certainly the other. 

Renji took his book and his ass down to the Ninth Division. The evening was getting later, darker, cooler, but the Squad Nine was still bravely kicking into the late evening. Yes, Renji was proud of Shuuhei for collecting all his cute little worker bees to buzz around him, handing the security and the news with equal severity like their lives depended on it. And the sweet, sweet honey they churned out was the information that passed through the Seireitei like oxygen into a bloodstream. It's a circulatory beehive of oxygen and honey and mixed metaphors. 

Shuuhei’s actual office was cluttered. Eternally, predictably so. And the mess had only evolved over the years. Currently, he had a collection of newspaper pages from previous editions of the Seireitei Communications pinned to the wall. Some sections were marked with yellow highlighter and cryptic post-it notes. 

It looked hectic to be sure, but Renji really liked that rigorous, passionate, batshit approach Shuuhei took when a project really piqued his interest. It looked like he’d been trying to solve a conspiracy about his own newspaper. Which he sort of had been doing.

And sitting there was Shuuhei, of course. Hunched over his desk, rifling his fingers through stiff papers and wearing a stony expression that would send better, wiser men than Renji scuttling back out the way they came. Serious, handsome, oblivious Shuuhei. 

Since Shuuhei didn’t look up when Renji trotted in, he was granted the rare opportunity to walk right up to the other lieutenant’s desk and slap down the enormous volume. The girth of the book caused the desk to rattle upon impact like a meteor striking a tin roof, and Shuuhei bolted ramrod straight in his desk with his hackles immediately raised. Absolutely beautiful.

The spit-second of shock and fatigue pass. He narrowed his good eye to find a judgmental Renji standing in front of him with his arms crossed over his chest.

Shuuhei frowned at him, “We need to put a bell on you.” 

“No one has ever accused me of bein’ subtle before. I refuse to let anyone start now.” Renji patted the book cover, which causes the pages to exhale a sigh of musty air into the room. “Brought you that lil’ something you asked about. Not sure how it’s going to help, though. I thought your manuscript was about the betrayal and the Winter War.” 

Renji could see the gears in Shuuhei’s head begin to churn, he placed both hands on either side of the book and Renji let him drag it across the desk towards his body. 

Shuuhei had always been smart-- maybe too smart for his own good. It was tragic that usually his intelligence and cunning got him pinned to his desk. Blatant misuse of a bright mind and a quick sword-hand. Soul Society never knew what to do with the always rare Jack-of-All-Trades. Not that anybody was asking Renji in the first place. 

Renji thought they were making progress in that regard. That instead of Shuuhei staying in his office all night, he’d have to come home and turn off his busy brain for the evening. Not to mention the times that Renji was able to divert Shuuhei’s attention towards his  _ other _ long-term goal. 

“It’s for context, you know? Everyone knows the basic story of Aizen and what he did to get on the Gotei’s shit-list. But people don’t know the details. The  _ build-up _ that explains how we got to that point in the first place.” 

The ancient covers opened like an old, dry mouth, Shuuhei’s fingers flip through the pages. Not that Renji fancied himself some kind of librarian, but he had to wonder about the actual value of a dusty old museum piece like this. He went through six years in the Academy of sitting through classes and reading books by stuffy old noblemen, who wrote about other stuffy old noblemen in pages and pages of dry, pseudo-intellectual circle-jerking. Didn’t get much out of the experience.

Like a cat swatting a paper bag, Renji took advantage of Shuuhei’s lowered guard to slap the cover closed. “Right, right. Anyways, it’s all yours starting tomorrow. But right now, it’s almost closing time. I wanna hit up the bar for a little before we head home, it's been ages since we went out.” 

Shuuhei’s lips purseed in a dejected frown, but dutifully he leaned back in his seat away from the book and his other vast collections of papers. He rose to a stand stiffly, rolling back his shoulders, and Renji had the sudden sympathetic urge to rub them for him. Maybe later.  “Fine. We should get home soon, though. I saw Izuru earlier for lunch and he mentioned wanting to go to bed early. He seemed a little weird, too. I wouldn’t mind keeping a close eye on him tonight.”

A faint chill ran up and down Renji’s spine. “You think he’s spiraling again?”

But Shuuhei shook his head stubbornly. He rifled through various drawers in his desk until he found his coinpurse, looking deceptively calm in spite of the subject matter. Renji envied his ability to keep up the illusion.

“Honestly? I think it’s just one of his off days. You know it’s good for him to stay busy, but eventually he’ll get stressed out and just need some time to decompress. And I'll bet if he knows we rushed home just to hover over him, he’ll feel even worse. Better we give him some space, and that he doesn’t worry about us while we’re trying to worry about him.”

Izuru’s pallid face flashed in Renji’s mind, his thin brows furrowed with concern and dark raccoon circles ringing his icy eyes. As they let the office interior see the backs of them, Renji had to consider it bold of Shuuhei to assume that Izuru would ever stop worrying. 

 

Five years ago, some strange and terrible things happened in Soul Society. And when strange and terrible things happen, it doesn’t necessarily matter how prepared you think you are. In the end, the best thing you can do is your best under the given circumstances. You do your best. 

Not everyone did survive the Blood War. And though Renji would never admit it aloud, he had some mixed feelings looking back on he role he played in the fight. Of course, it was worth it to help Ichigo and Rukia. They didn’t sit around and wait for orders to come to them, and Renji never felt a greater sense of purpose in his life then when he was standing between some opponent and Ichigo so that the teen hero of Soul Society could carry out his own duty, or when Rukia was giving him permission to go all out.

But it was impossible to not look back, when Renji was whisked away by Squad Zero to do their bidding. Being trained and groomed like a good little pup to carry out a higher purpose, while Renji’s allies were just getting blasted to smithereens hundreds of miles below his feet. He didn’t even know that Izuru had been torn into two pieces under after the fighting was done.    
  


Renji and Izuru were already together by that point. Izuru was still tender from the Winter War, but he was sensitive and strong. And Renji was just the right kind of romantic idiot. They had their first kiss, first date, had sex for the first time. Moved in together in some quiet, middle-of-nowhere cottage that was a nice, long hike from work no matter what way you sliced it but at least gave them privacy. 

They would lie in bed together, Izuru tucked under Renji’s arm, and playfully talk about how they both had big, mortifying crushes Shuuhei and how they’d seduce their senpai in all these ridiculous ways right out of dirty paperback novels. They didn’t want for a lot. Just happy to see the past in the rearview mirror, confident that the worst of their lives was finally over with. 

It was fun and giddy and embarrassing-- being in love, that was. And Renji realized how long it had been since he allowed himself to care about things that wasn't his job or his skills. It was like after Rukia was saved from execution, all the floodgates in Renji's heart opened up at once. 

Things were good. Maybe that was the problem. Things were too good, and Renji forgot that he could never have nice things or ever feel satisfied with himself. Because that’s when the universe would slap him back into line. 

 

Dying was particularly adverse to Izuru’s health and happiness. This is a predictable symptom of dying that was still worth being mentioned. You might find that if you or a loved one is dead, that tends to really upset a previously stable relationship.

It took a long time for Izuru to be okay with what happened, and for Renji to be okay with the fact that he couldn’t fix all of it. 

Flash-forward half a decade later. Having Shuuhei around helped more than Renji could describe. Izuru had his good days and his bad days, but Renji was thankful that the good days are outnumbering the bad days. They always, always do eventually. 

Anyways, this has almost nothing to do with Renji and Shuuhei getting only a little bit fucked up on a work night at 7 PM on weak beer and appetizers. 

 

Renji inhaled a dumpling between pauses in the conversation. He liked a nice, casual pub, something a little less Seireitei and a little more like people could come there to eat and have a good time. “So how’s the book going, anyways? You’ve been working on that sucker for most of the year.” 

“Yeah, about. I think I’m starting to get to the end, but I don’t want to leave out anything important, you know?” Shuuhei was almost more ravenous than Renji, washing down a mouthful while knocking back his drink. Shuuhei’s wiped his mouth with his wrist messily, making Renji wonder exactly when the dark-haired man had last put food into his body. “I mean, we actually lived through all this. I feel like I’m better equipped to write what actually happened then someone who wasn’t even there.”

Renji played with the edge of his cup. “Am I in your book?”

He was gratified to see Shuuhei’s lips crack into a smile, all glowing with pride under his too-long bangs. He wasn’t a smily kind of person, but Shuuhei’s scars made him look lopsided when he grinned and it was heartbreakingly cute and quirky. “Of course you are. Quite a lot, actually. I mean, we all are-- you, me, Izuru, Hinamori, Kuchiki-san… I think basically everyone that we know is at least getting a mention. But you have a bad habit of getting yourself right in the middle of trouble.”

“Story of my life.” Renji huffed, balancing his jaw on his elbow against the table. Good ol’ Renji. Always getting booted from the narrative and still managing to worm his way back in. He’s like everybody’s bad penny or something. “I think it’s really cool you’re making something unique like this, Shuuhei. Just… don’t overdo it. Like you always do.”

Automatically, Shuuhei’s brow lifted. “‘Like I always do’, huh? You sure you wanna be the one to say that?”

“You know what I mean.” Renji gestured at the air with his other hand, trying to calculate the best way to say this without getting Shuuhei all defensive and prickly. A difficult feat in itself. “The book is cool, but after the Blood War we were s’posed to be finishing work on your bankai. Doesn’t your captain ask why it’s not done by now?” 

Guilt flashed over Shuuhei instantly, his teeth shining as he cringed. “It’s basically finished. I just haven’t been able to test it in a realistic scenario yet.” 

“Both of us could be doing a lot better, though.” Renji argued. 

“Fine. Yeah, you’re right. I’ll make some more time to train with you. Some time when we’re both not working, yeah? We'll make a date of it.”

Now it was Renji’s turn to raise his brows under his bandana, jutting his chin out on his fist. “So you’re gonna finish and publish your book,  _ and  _ you’re gonna do bankai training with me,  _ and _ you’re gonna keep up with your work duties like you’ve been doing,  _ and _ -”

“Renji, I would love it if you would stop chattering and just get to your point.” Shuuhei folded his arms over the table, leaning in like a cat raising his hackles. 

“-And you’re gonna have enough time left over for me and Izuru?” Renji finished. “You know he needs consistency, an’ you being out of the house all the time isn’t great for building that.”

Was it too much for Renji to chance some display of affection? The restaurant was fairly dark, a regular haunt for them. One where they wouldn't attract attention, at least in theory. 

Renji slid his hand across the table, where it landed innocuously on top of Shuuhei’s. A familiar tingle of fondness ran up Renji’s fingers and down his arm at the subtle contact, he ached with love. “We miss you, ya’ know.”

He watched Shuuhei melt, just a little. His shoulders slumped and that dark head of shaggy hair hands like there’s a heavy weight pressing on it. “Fine. You’re right. Again. Can’t fall back into bad habits, can we?” Renji does so love it when he’s right. “Just… what would you have me do, exactly? Hypothetically.”

Renji shrugged. “I dunno, I guess what most people do after there’s been a huge war crisis and they’re finally in peacetime.”

“Have another crisis two years later because our predecessors fucked us over big time and a bunch of dipshits in white suits have a victim complex?” Shuuhei retorted dryly, and Renji bravely ignored him.

“I mean take it easy for a while. Go on vacation. Maybe even get married, if we're feelin' like it. Churn out 2.5 babies. Grow a victory garden.” 

Shuuhei snorted, like Renji had just told a joke. “Renji, I don’t know what kind of Soul Society  _ you’re _ living in, but I’m about to break some really unfortunate truths to you.” 

...Okay. Renji did consider that to be a little harsh. But he wasn’t about to let Shuuhei be a party-pooper all over Renji’s rational and practical plan to live their normal lives. 

“C’mon, Shuuhei. You must’ve at least thought about it at some point.”

“What part? Marriage? Having kids with you and Izuru?” Shuuhei’s head snapped up, and for the first time he seemed to realize that Renji was actually being serious. So of course his first impulse is to ogle Renji like he’d grown a second head. 

Ouch. Was the idea of having kids with him really so crazy? Renji aggressively ogled back. 

“Yeah? I mean, why not? We’re not always gonna have the opportunity to settle down before what the fuck ever kind of emergency happens next. After all that shit we went through, don’t we deserve the happy end with everything all neatly wrapped up with a pretty little bow?”

“Sure we do, but that’s-” Shuuhei scoffed, staring at Renji like he’d lost absolutely every marble he had. Like Renji didn’t even lose the marbles. Renji held the marbles in his big, baseball-mitt sized hand and overhand chucked them into the stratosphere one at a time, finally free of any grasp on reality.  _ Liberation. _ “We can’t have  _ kids _ ! It’s impossible! We can barely take care of each other between the three of us.”

“That doesn’t mean we’d be  _ bad parents. _ ” Renji pushed, leaning in so that the whole restaurant doesn’t hear their baby argument. “I bet we could do plenty better than a lotta idiots out there who have children.” 

“That’s not a good reason to do it! Shit, Renji!” 

“You’re not even going to think about it?”

“No! Obviously! Renji, we are shinigami! We could die in the line of duty! We all have full-time jobs! We’re-” Shuuhei’s face twisted in a mask of outrage and anguish. “We’re  _ home-renters!  _ We’re arguably the worst constructed team of all time to have a baby. How are you even imagining this playing out? Are you gonna be the one who quits your job to stay home with the kid?”

Renji resisted the urge to swallow dryly. He couldn’t possibly leave his lieutenancy at the Sixth Division. Couldn’t give up on the dream to surpass Captain Kuchiki, but he just as much couldn’t ask Shuuhei and Izuru to give up on the divisions that they basically ran single-handed for a year to take care of a baby that they might not even want. 

… Did the Gotei even do parental leave? That would be a rough conversation to have with Captain Kuchiki.

“Plenty a’ parents do daycare. They have nannies-”

“And who’s gonna pay for all that? What happens to the kid if we die, huh? We don’t exactly have a fortune to leave behind as inheritance.”

“Why would all three of us die? That seems like a really specific scenario!”

“We have dangerous jobs. You don’t think we might get killed by hollows or an arrancar or something?”

“All three of us? At the  _ same time _ ?”

“It could happen, Renji!”

A new voice coughed very noticeably at Renji’s left side. “Excuse me…”

Simultaneously, Renji and Shuuhei both whipped their heads around to point dumbfounded looks towards their waitress. She was a familiar face, dark-haired and looking very pale under the attention of two noisy officers. Renji thought that she’d been their server before, thus doubling his humiliation. “I’m so sorry to intrude, but some other tables have become concerned about the… the volume in this area. Is everything alright?”

In this case ‘is everything alright?’ was code for ‘please don’t tell me any more information or say anything about it at all, because you are two very scary-looking shinigami and I am a small waitress and I will begin to literally cry from stress’. Shuuhei was the first to regain his wits and take pity on the poor girl, reaching into his pocket and digging for his wallet. “No, actually we were just finishing up here. We’ll take the check when you’re ready.”

The waitress gratefully fled the scene, and Renji was still recovering over the mortification that they just got caught having a fight in public. Like some kind of crabby old heterosexual couple! He felt himself bright red, burning with shame. 

Shuuhei slapped down a handful of yen before the check even arrived, standing up from his seat and giving Renji a serious look. “We need to cool off before Izuru sees us.”


	2. Chapter 2

There was a very recent point where the idea of being a dad wasn’t just intimidating for Renji, it was downright depressing. He knew nothing about children, or raising them, or what the relationship between a parent and a child was supposed to be like. What exactly made kids different from being just small adults? There were ways, but they were mysterious and elusive. 

What he did know was growing up with Rukia, trusting only her and no one else. Avoiding any adults. Being too young and knowing too much. The world being a terrible and huge and dreadful place. Death before life. He knew the things that were rational and realistic. 

There was something almost liberating about bitter self-awareness. No matter what rumors were spread, what they said about him being hot-headed and dangerous and a beast, no one knew how deeply fucked up Renji was better than he did. He knew every inch of his flaws, all the gross little details about his own brain and soul that drove people away. The real thinker is how miraculous it was that Renji wasn’t even more dysfunctional, and he's kind of fine with that.

(Shuuhei never talked much about his own experiences growing up in the Rukongai, which he described as 'Unpleasant'. Renji did know he was on the opposite side of the circle, a few districts closer towards the center. If they were the types to care about the caste system, Shuuhei would probably only be a rank or two above Renji in the pecking order. Not that it counted for much, but Shuuhei at least grew up in civilization. 

He told Renji once that he grew up on a farm, working for his father in a house that was too small for him and his many elder siblings. Renji always had a hard time picturing that. Even as a teenager, Shuuhei looked so serious and solitary. Renji couldn’t imagine him as the runt of the litter, tripping over countless brothers and sisters and toiling in the fields.)  


(You’d think if any of them had the background and experience of a ‘normal’ family, it’d be Izuru. Mr. Had-Two-Parents-Who-Actually-Loved-Him McNoblePants. But both Izuru’s mother and father died when he was very young, and Izuru didn’t have much to show for his family’s status other than an empty, dilapidated mansion buried under a century of weeds.

Renji met Izuru at his parents’ gravesite, long before he knew that Izuru was going to be one of the two men he would fall hopelessly in love with. As far as bad omens go, that one in particular was pretty fucked.)  


Hearing people talk about their families, happy or otherwise, always gave Renji this sense of detachment. Like he was some kind of space alien dropped into this dimension by mistake. The void irresponsibly spat him out into the world. And whether it was bad luck or bad breeding that made him the way that he was, it's been Renji’s problem ever since.

But if there’s one thing Renji absolutely wasn’t, it was a quitter. He may have been emotionally, irreversibly stunted in his formative years, but goddammit he’s a tenacious son of a bitch. And not everybody gets the privilege of being born a go-getter.

 

* * *

 

 

Renji loved spending time with Izuru and Shuuhei, even if they weren’t doing anything particularly interesting. Summer brought in the new season of graduates from Shin’o, ready to be filtered and organized into the Divisions who would have them. And this year, it finally felt like the ranks were swollen like they had been before even the Winter War.

So, of course, what are veterans like the three of them to do? Other than take some time off and let the fresh meat get the hang of their new responsibilities.

It was a team effort. Shuuhei whipped up a picnic lunch. Izuru found a nice, grassy little spot next to a heart-clenchingly scenic pond. Renji carried the stuff there. Pats on the back all around.

Shuuhei and Izuru even brought a book to share, and they traded it back and forth as they took turns reading. Renji liked the story okay, but he much preferred having it read aloud to him in Izuru’s gentle murmur or Shuuhei’s smooth, low tone.

The summer sun glimmered against the water surface, Renji inhaled a nice, big lungful of fresh air as he tossed a decent-sized stone up and down in his palm. “Six.” He announced, before reeling his arm back and sending the rock shooting across the pond. The stone skipped across the water once, twice, three times, four, five-

“Almost, but not quite.” Izuru hummed cheekily at Renji’s side, watching the stone disappear into the water with a noisy ‘plourp!’ He was looking better and better, some color pinkening his skin. The warm breeze combed through his flaxen hair, looking as pretty as a doll before picking up a flat rock off of the pond bank in his bony fist. “Seven.”

Sure enough, Izuru flung the stone and watched it neatly make seven hops before disappearing into the drink. Renji didn’t even have to look over to see the smug smirk pointed in his direction. “Show-off.”

Close behind them, Shuuhei sprawled out on his back across the picnic blanket, looking like an enormous black cat basking in the warm Sun. The book he was reading from was propped up on his belly, leaning against his leg.

“ _‘_ _An ugliness unfurled in the moonlight and soft shadow and suffused the whole world.’_ ” Shuuhei dutifully read from the page. Renji liked the deep, deep tone of his voice. It seemed to vibrate in his body all the way back out to the air. “ _‘If I were an amoeba, he thought, with an infinitesimal body, I could defeat ugliness. A man isn’t tiny or giant enough to defeat anything._ ’”

“Rude.” Renji commented, “Is it just me, or are all the classical books huge downers? This poor dude can’t catch a break.”

“That’s literature for you.” Izuru leaned to his side, and Renji felt the slighter man’s weight against his shoulder. A comfortable shape. “Perhaps you're thinking of them too much as real people, when sometimes they're just metaphors. That’s why fictional characters can feel so shallow but also be relatable. It’s deep and artsy and stuff.”

Renji scoffed, frowning at the lovely scenery he had just been deeply enjoying. “That’s even more depressing. Ryuji just wanted to be a good husband and dad, he didn’t deserve to feel so guilty and shitty all the time.”

“But he gave up on his passion as a sailor. No matter how much he loved Fusako, he was never going to be happy living on the land.” Izuru argued. “In a way, maybe he already was dead on the inside.”

”Uhh, no? That’s just what his shitty step-son thought, and it's presented that way from his point-of-view. Ryuji knew what he was doing when he got engaged to Fusako. He really loved her. He wanted to be a family, sacrifices and all.”

There’s a suspicious lack of input coming from Shuuhei behind them. Since their ‘discussion’ on kids, Renji was fine with letting the topic rest. Still, Renji stubbornly tried to ignore what he was sure was a judgmental silence.

“What’s so difficult about having a family and still pursuing your ambitions anyways?” Renji pressed. Looking downwards at Izuru’s face, he watched those blue eyes flicker with intrigue. “I mean, isn’t that kinda classist? That the only people who should be allowed to have a career _and_ kids are the people who got lucky enough to have everything all figured out for them. And ‘normal’ people should be content with one or the other.”

He watched Izuru’s intelligent, bright eyes cloud over with confusion. His pink lips hung open before turning into a frown. “Renji, did someone say something to upset you?”

Renji’s flushed with surprise. “What? No. Why?”

“You tend to get particularly passionate about economic disparity if someone has said something cruel to you and you don’t want to talk about it.” Izuru’s gentle voice hardened suddenly. “Who was it?”

Continuing to redden, Renji rolled his eyes. As mild-mannered as Izuru presented himself in public, he had a side to him that was awfully... well, Renji would say 'intense'. Izuru was exactly the kind of devoted soul who could and would get himself into trouble on the impulsive whim to protect someone. This worried Renji, because it was his job to get himself into trouble on the impulsive whim to protect someone.

He opened his mouth to reassure Izuru that no, he wasn’t offended by any snide comments at _this_ time. But, of course, Shuuhei decided now was the perfect time to finally throw his two cents in. “Renji thinks we should have babies.”

Renji pointed a dripping glare over his shoulder at Shuuhei, who pretended to be very interested in the book’s table of contents. The shape of Izuru pressing against Renji’s side stiffened immediately, probably having some kind of out-of-body experience before clearing his throat, “Excuse I?”

“I never said we should do it _now_!” Renji quickly amended in his best, gruffest voice. He realized that having that fact out in the open between the three of them was somehow more embarrassing than just getting bitched out by Shuuhei in private. “Just that we could think about it a little. They got orphans poppin’ up in the Rukongai like dandelions, I’m sure at least one of ‘em wouldn’t mind coming home with us.”

Shuuhei snorted extremely unsubtly, burying his nose back between the pages. “That’s not how I remember you putting it…”

Chancing a glance downwards, Renji watched Izuru chew his bottom lip thoughtfully. Maybe it wasn’t the fact that Shuuhei and Izuru knew he wanted to be a parent that made the revelation so mortifying. Maybe it was something else.

Surely, nobody in Soul Society was expecting to see Renji, with his crazy tats and scars, strolling through the Seireitei with a small infant bundled in his huge, beefy arms. Like he was gonna follow Kuchiki into a meeting while having the kid strapped to his chest in one of those little pouches, screaming and puking all over him like tomorrow wasn’t a thing.  

“I hadn’t realized you were interested in that.” Izuru began to play with his hands in his lap, squeezing his fingers and twisting them at the knuckle. “It’s… Renji, you’re so compassionate. If we had a child, I know you’d love it more than anything.”

Wow, what a great way to end that conversation with no ‘buts’ or addendum at all.

“But…” A dark, bitterly sad frown pulled at the corners of Izuru’s lips. “It would be difficult enough for a child to grow up with the stigma against three-parent households, let alone if those three parents are fathers. None of us have much experience with children, and it’s not like we know any other parents who could help us out.”

“You know, I bet a lotta’ kids would prefer having three inexperienced gay dads to no parents at all.”

No sooner had the words left Renji’s mouth than a stifling blanket of silence fell over the trio. Renji wondered if Izuru and Shuuhei were thinking the same thing he wished he wasn’t thinking; about how things could have been very, very different a long, long time ago. For all of them.

The book closed in Shuuhei’s lap. Renji wondered if he had thought about this topic at all since Renji first forced the conversation, if sometimes he recalled it when he was working on his manuscript or his bankai.

“Maybe the problem isn’t that we won’t ever be good at it. It could be a question of if we’d be good at it _now_.” Shuuhei’s face was difficult to read, as usual. But his voice softened. As lieutenant, he had such a stern, commanding sound to him. Renji had only heard him make his voice kind for talking between the three of them. “Renji, I know you said we might not get another chance like this, but that’s exactly why we should wait to make decisions. It’s still way too soon after the war. Too much is still happening around us.”

“It’s been five years…” Renji grumbled, but honestly? He could see Shuuhei’s point, no matter how much it frustrated him.

The Gotei was still missing two captains-- Renji was pretty sure he’s not in the running for either of them, but that doesn’t make him any less concerned that Iba is gonna show up at his house in the middle with a captain's haori and two Komamura-sized shoes to fill.

Rukia, on the other hand, was up for nomination, and if there was ever a reason for Renji to be underfoot in his relentless loyalty, it was certainly for her.

“I think Shuuhei is right… if it’s meant to happen, then it will happen.” Izuru affirmed, and he cast a final look over to Shuuhei like he was checking for confirmation or confidence. Renji resisted the urge to prickle at that; usually when he and Shuuhei butted heads, Izuru could at least be counted on to support Renji's point of view. 

He was frustrated. Not at Shuuhei and Izuru, who dared to propose excellent, rational arguments against Renji’s whimsy. It was the third element of the trio that presented the problem. He was frustrated at himself.

Why did Renji care so much about whether he could raise a kid? He knew he was petty about the various, infinite ways that the Seireitei’s hierarchy scorned him. Being told that he couldn’t do something was almost a surefire way of getting Renji in a twist about it, no matter how outlandish or stupid the subject.

Was it because of the war? Like, Renji had a near-death experience and now he was going through some existential crisis? One that made all these fuzzy familial instincts he had literally never experienced before suddenly well up and give him baby fever?

It seemed unlikely. Renji almost died a lot, considering his career. If there was a division where the one requirement was to get into dangerous situations, Renji would already be captain, vice-captain and squad secretary.

Well, whatever the cause of it was, it couldn’t change his reality. Renji’s emotions were not always trustworthy reasons to make impulsive life-decisions. He did not need the responsibility of cleaning up another mess that he made for himself.

The fact was just that Renji may be passionate, intense, and dramatic as hell. He had to trust that the reasonable minds of his two better halves would be there to brace him against making rash decisions.


	3. Chapter 3

Further happenings in Renji’s life suggest that his instincts are always, always right and everything would just work out hunky-dory if people _listened_ to him in the _first_ place.

 

Shuuhei walked away from the bathroom door, closed behind him. As he stepped into the light of the kitchen, Renji could see how tired the dark-haired man was. The way that air came into and left his chest. 

On a normal night like this, late as it was, Renji would prefer to see Shuuhei already be in his night clothes, tucked into bed and out like a light. For a guy who tended to sacrifice sleep for the sake of his projects, Shuuhei was the heaviest sleeper between the three of them and trying to wake him up in the morning was like arguing with a dead body. He just slept like a sweet little lethargic angel.

Tonight was no good for that, as evidence by the fact that poor Shuuhei was still in his shinigami uniform, dripping all over the floor that he always scolded Renji for tracking mud into. After working all week, he should be allowed to have two days to himself. But the rain outside had drenched him from head to toe, and not even Izuru’s fussing and attempting to run a towel over him had done much good.

“I think that she’ll be okay in there.” Shuuhei said, finally taking the towel Izuru had pushed into his face and running it over his sopping wet hair. Strips of mud were wrapped around his bare arms, smudging the perfect black of his uniform. “Poor thing looked like she hadn’t seen a bath in years, but I got her a water basin and a washcloth. That should be fine just for tonight.”

He sounded relieved, and Renji wished he could empathize. Instead, he just shared a nervous look with Izuru. The blond, like Renji, was already in his sleeping yukata with interrupted sleep all over his face. Neither had been expecting Shuuhei to bring back a guest with him.

“Where did you find her?” Izuru asked, his arms tightly folded over his front. Not scared, just very, very, anxious. Like he was trying to keep his grip on himself. Renji could see his white knuckles around his elbows.

Shuuhei frowned, furrowing his brows. “District… 66? 67? It was hard to tell with the walls knocked down. The whole area looked like it had been hit pretty hard during the war, and hadn't seen much in-going traffic since. All that death and destruction must have seemed like a perfect nest for hollows to breed. Someone really needed to clean that hole out years ago, but it must've slipped off the Gotei's radar.”

Faintly, Renji could hear the sound of dripping water. Trickling down Shuuhei’s chin. Tapping at the roof over their heads. Lapping in a bucket behind the bathroom door as tiny hands dipped into the warm water.

Drip.

 

_Drip_.

 

_Drip_.

 

The past few days, Renji had been on pins and needles for Shuuhei to return from a mission in the Rukongai. Despite being woken up in the middle of the night, Renji was more than happy to let Shuuhei into the house. Listen, it happened. Hollows weren't known to schedule their rampages around shinigami sleep schedules. How many times had the Gotei dragged Renji out of his home to run around on company time?

After that, Renji was more dumbstruck than anything else. Flustered enough that Izuru also had to rise and see what in the hell was going on here.

Standing on the front porch while the rain came down behind him in sheets. A smattering of what looked like dried blood smeared against his neck. A soaking bundle in his arms, held against Shuuhei’s chest. And from within there were two enormous, saucer-sized eyes that seemed to be taking in all of the world at once, too much and too fast. Shuuhei barely had a word to speak before he was rushing the little girl out of the rain and into the pile of dry towels in the bathroom.

Renji felt his mouth dry and his heart thud against his chest. He still felt it as the three of them watched the bathroom door together. Watching, like at any moment it might explode. He had never felt so much nervous energy in one room. 

Finally, Renji cleared his throat enough to speak. “Why’d you bring her here, Shuuhei?”

Shuuhei’s brows twitched, almost unnoticeably. He kept his gaze on the floor, making the shadows on his face look particularly long and daunting. “Nowhere else to put ‘er. She was the only one left.”

An only survivor, eh?

She did have that look in her face.

Another uncomfortable beat of silence. Izuru’s voice pierced the quiet, his soft tone sounding even more delicate than usual. “She could sleep in the guest room. Tomorrow we’ll look for someone who can take her--”

All three jumped as the doorknob shivered. With a great deal of effort the door slid away, and the great big doe eyes of the little girl observed them reproachfully once again.

She could not have been more than four years old, looking very tiny and delicate with her raggedy yukata still soaked and dripping on the tile floor. Her black hair must have once been very thick and curly, but was shorn close to her scalp that there was hardly any hair to comment on at all.

And her big, dark eyes… Renji didn’t know how to describe them except as ‘haunted’.

Haunted, like the eyes that Renji saw in the children of Rukongai. The young ones born into the sharpest side of the world, and the old ones who had raised themselves in it.

Whether they were living in milk crates in the Districts, or in refrigerator boxes in the World of the Living. It was black and empty like the iron nails barely holding a wall together. Like the darkness that followed after a candle was blown out.

It was the look of the Unloved Child, and Renji knew instantly that he was as familiar with that look as he was with his own face in the mirror.

He felt an intense weight of sorrow and despair on top of him, felt it try to push him below the floor and into the ground beneath the foundation. It demanded his attention, a grief that was hungry inside of him. Mean and inconsiderate and desperate to be fed.

The four of them were frozen like that for what felt like a million years. Renji, Shuuhei, Izuru, and the Haunted Girl. They all waited for someone else to move first.

After that endless pause, Izuru started. Like he had been suddenly broken from a trance. “Oh my god.”

Izuru shook his head a little, like a cat brushing off something distracting, and he cautiously stepped forwards to approach her. “Little one--"

As soon as he moved, the Haunted Girl stepped backwards, her hands on the side of the bathroom door. Intending to use it to barricaded herself in, as if her small frame could do a thing about it. Izuru lifted his hands and looked down at the floor. “N-no, no! I’m sorry for scaring you, little one. It’s okay, we… we are... nice.”

Renji’s tongue ran over the inside of his teeth. If he was in her position, he definitely wouldn’t have believed Izuru. No matter how frail his voice, and how delicate his footstep inching towards. Izuru was as non-threatening as a person could possibly be, but it didn't do much to alleviate the tension.

The Haunted Girl’s face was flat. Her lips sealed in a small line. She regarded Izuru impassively, like he was some foreign creature, not yet confirmed to be a danger but not confirmed as harmless either. Her eyes flickered to Shuuhei, then returned to looking through Izuru.

Izuru, observant and clever cunning, noticed the glance. Renji had no doubt.

“Shuuhei brought you here, yes? He brought you here so you could be out of the rain and get some rest in a safe place.” Izuru extended his arm very slowly, still a ways away from the girl. Renji knew, of course, that this was so she could approach him on her own terms. But from the outside perspective, it looked more like Izuru was keeping his distance in case she lunged out and bit him. “Let me show you where you can sleep, okay? I can bring you something clean to wear.”

Again, her eyes flickered to Shuuhei, standing behind Izuru and still dripping onto the hardwood floors. In the corner of Renji’s eye, he saw Shuuhei give a shallow nod. And the Haunted Girl slowly began to walk towards Izuru.

Though really, her steps teetered so much, it looked more like a drunken teeter. Renji wondered when the last time this kid had food was.

Instead of taking Izuru’s hand, the Haunted Girl gripped his yukata sleeve in her small, stubby fist. Making direct contact seemed too much for her. Izuru was starting to look equally unsure, looking back at his boyfriends with an electric, primal kind of fear in his eyes. “Renji, can you get one of my yukata?”

A heartbeat. A dry breath. Renji was awake in the world again. “Yeah, sure.” Renji answered, and propelled his brain and body to move. One of Izuru’s robes definitely wouldn’t fit the girl, but it would be more pleasant to sleep in than the rags she had on now.

Once he started to move towards their bedroom, however, the spell was suddenly broken. Renji shuffled through the closet until he found Izuru’s pajamas and scooped up one of his yukata. As an afterthought, he grabbed another pile of fabric that was vaguely Shuuhei-sized. He didn't have time to be stunned, there was shit to do. People for him to fuss over.

Returning to the hall, Renji handed Shuuhei one of his blue sleeping robes, which Shuuhei took immediately. “You also gotta get cleaned up. You’ll catch yer death of cold.”

“I’m sorry about… this.” Shuuhei’s eye met Renji’s, and his lips twisted in a grimace. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Yeah, who ever does? Renji shook his head. “What else were you s’posed to do? Leave her out there? We’ll figure something out.”

Shuuhei’s expressions were hard to decipher. He was good at hiding his feelings, even from Renji. But right now, he looked so clearly, transparently sad. There was more sadness on him than Renji ever cared to see on someone he loved. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too. So did the blond.” Renji swung his arm over Shuuhei’s shoulder, pulling him in to kiss his cheek. Shuuhei’s skin was like carved ice, it sent goosebumps up Renji’s arms. “Seriously, get washed up. You look like you’re about t’ pass out. I’ll make ya’ some tea after Izuru has the kid situated.”

In the greatest display of obedience Renji had ever seen from him, Shuuhei nodded and turned towards the bathroom. Then, quickly, he turned around to kiss Renji on the lips before shuffling inside. Renji watched the back of him before the door closed behind. Where was that compliance when he was looking for it?

One down, one and a half more to go.

 

On his way down the hall, Renji could already hear Izuru’s voice slipping out of the door as he spoke to the girl. That voice was so soothing, surprisingly deep and mellow considering Izuru’s small frame. Renji had a hard time imagining anyone, even a frightened little kid, could listen to him speak in that soft, lullabye tone and not instantly fall into a trance. Renji loved nothing more than having his head in Izuru's lap, fingers combing through his hair and soft words skimming over his ears until the world buzzed away.

God. Renji slapped his palms on either side of his face. This was so exhausting.

“...There are some more blankets in this closet here, if you get cold. They’re a little stiff, but they’re clean.” Izuru murmured.

As Renji approached, he could see the ghostly glow of Izuru's pale hair through the narrow opening of the guest room door. From the way his back was hunched, he seemed to be taking up as little space as possible before the Haunted Girl. Trying to make himself small, and probably not even realizing he was doing it. He was a tiny thing by nature.

It shouldn’t strike Renji as weird that Izuru would have some kind of latent caretaker instinct. He was an officer of the Fourth Division, before getting yanked into the Third. He probably spent enough time fussing with difficult patients. Yet these days it felt more like Izuru was the one who needed fussing over and coddling than the other way around. He was so sensitive and soft, what was Renji supposed to do? Not take care of him?

Izuru must have caught Renji’s shadow blotting out the light from the hall. He cast a quick glance over his narrow shoulder at Renji, all huge baby-blues that briefly revealed how incredibly anxious he really was.

As he unfolded himself to stand again, Renj could see the huddled shape of the Haunted Girl sitting on top of the futon. Not underneath the covers, just… perched on top, with her knees and arms lost in the folds of her robe, like a bird with its wings tucked tight against its body.

Her empty eyes looked almost accusatory. Not angry, or even distrustful, but… like judgement.

Or maybe Renji was crazy paranoid, and she was a normal child, and his mind was playing tricks on him due to unbelievable stress.

“Thank you,” Izuru seemed to be relieved to not be alone anymore, taking the sleeping yukata from Renji and unfolding it to show the child with new energy in his voice. “Renji brought you something to change into, see? It’s too big for you… but it would be good to wear something clean when you sleep. Do you need help with the tie?”

The Haunted Girl made no movement, she barely even seemed to be breathing. She definitely wasn’t going to settle down and sleep as long as she knew these strange adults were hovering around here, Renji already had that figured.

“I’ll just… set this down here.” Izuru quickly folded the yukata and stooped down to place it in front of the doorway. “We’re going to leave you alone now. Pleasant dreams.”

Retreating from the room, Izuru left the guest room door cracked open. They were barely out of earshot from the room when Izuru began to fidget and titter. “Was that okay? Do you think I scared her?”

“I dunno if she’s scared, exactly. She’s trying to get a read on us.” Renji answered. “Tell ya’ the truth, she seems really typical for a Rukongai kid. I’m amazed Shuuhei managed to haul her all the way back here.”

It wasn’t exactly a short trip with a plus one. Renji could only figure that meant the girl agreed to be taken-- or asked to be.

“Do you think she can’t speak?”

Renji shrugged. He could hear the sound of the shower begin to trickle and slow in the bathroom. “Or she doesn’t want to.”

“Mutism can be a symptom of trauma.” Izuru muttered so quietly Renji thought he might be talking to himself. He played with his hands again.

Renji put his large hand over Izuru’s smaller one, covering his bony fingers and wrapping around his soft palm. It felt good to put his weight against something. “You should get some sleep too, sunshine.”

But, of course, sleep didn’t come easily. Not even when Shuuhei was finally clean of rain, mud and scum, wrapped up in his soft nightclothes bit still looking somber.

It didn’t come easily when Renji was lying in bed between Izuru and Shuuhei, feeling their tension through the vibrations of the mattress and the inevitable contact of skin to skin.

Renji wasn’t sure he even slept at all, or if he just was stuck in the Haunted Girl’s dark eyes. Like a prehistoric creature trapped in a pit of black tar. 

 

And so. The morning came.

Not a particularly startling surprise. But after staring at the ceiling for way longer than he should have and, in the process realizing he had an intensely powerful headache, Renji wondered if maybe he had just had an off-putting dream last night. A reminder to himself not to think so much about serious things. But serious things always had Renji in their cross-hairs, he ought to figure by now. 

This was not the case, however. And when forced to confront reality, Renji did what a lot of adults do, and he put on a fresh pot of coffee. He pinched the bridge of his nose and stared at his feet. Shit. God.

Shuuhei sat on one end of the couch, Izuru sat on the other with his legs thrown over Shuuhei’s lap. Renji sat on the coffee table facing both of them. Together, they made a Triangle of Tension. Waiting impatiently for any sound from their unusual guest to rally them into action.

“Well.” Izuru started, and then didn’t continue.

When it became clear that no one wanted to begin, Shuuhei picked up the slack. “I guess the first thing should be doing is finding someone who can take her in permanently.”

“Soul Society doesn’t have any services or networks for homeless children.” Renji said, sounding kind dumb as he stated the very obvious. “We can’t just put up posters like ‘hey, do you want a kid? We’ll give you a kid!’”

Renji watched Izuru start to chew on his nails. “I can’t think of anyone who would want to adopt a child out of the blue like this. And we can’t just force her on somebody like she’s a burden.”

Adoptions didn’t just happen every day in the Seireitei. They were uncommon, they were… bizarre. That was what had made Rukia’s ascension into the Kuchikis so frighteningly uncanny. Regular people didn’t get to become Seireitei citizens overnight-- let alone some stray pup from the further districts. A diamond in the rough, who had already been passed over too many times before.

“What about people outside of the Gotei?” Renji suggested. “Shuuhei, you got family. Do you think any of your siblings would take another mouth to feed?”

“Maybe…” Shuuhei looked reluctant to even admit it. His arms were folded over his chest, looking serious and stubborn. “I wouldn’t want her anywhere near my old man, though. He still likes to think he’s some kind of boss in the Districts, and that any kid old enough to toddle should be out toiling in the fields and building character.”

“Then… if she doesn’t have anywhere to go for now,” Izuru said, his tone tentative and almost shakey. “It looks like she’s staying here with us.”

Renji wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He knew that, somehow, this was the universe ironically twisting his fate onto himself. Renji had begged and pleaded for Shuuhei and Izuru to at least consider adopting a child. Now, Shuuhei had come home with one on his hip and Izuru had just volunteered for them to keep her. Things couldn’t have worked out more conveniently if the girl had been dropped on their doorstep in a wicker basket with a bow on it!

It was exactly now, however, that Renji began to get an inkling of how deeply, deeply unprepared he was for any of this. And how deeply, deeply all three of them were fucked.


End file.
